Attack of the Mary Sues III
by Amara2
Summary: Amara is not happy with Emerald Fiona Flourish's sequel. Amara did not participate. Amara has written her own trequel. Amara has spoken.
1. Default Chapter

Update: Dammit, Emerald wrote one the same day that I did! This is sooooooo not fair. Fine. Well. Read hers if you must. Hmmph.

ATTACK OF THE MARY SUES III     ****I know this should be under authorfics but I wanted it to be in the same category as Emerald's fics****

A/N: Revenge is sweet. Go read Attack of the Mary Sues and Attack of the Mary Sues II by Emerald Fiona Flourish first.

        This is NOT dedicated to Em, for forgetting one very key word in her story.

        _"And now you have paid dearly with the fictional, non-existent life of your new Mary Sue, who, may I add, is not nearly as smart, flatulent, witty, not to_

_         mention kind, talented, polite, and beautiful as the _old_ Mary Sue. SO THERE"_

        Not as smart, flatulent, witty, not to mention kind, talented, polite, and beautiful as ME. As ME! (Except for the flatulent part. Ahem.) ME! MEMEMEME

        MEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEME

        MEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEME

        MEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEME

        **_ME._****__**

        NO, I do NOT have a problem. I'm just FINE. It's YOU who's got a problem. Huh. Me, problem, yeah, right. 

        *walks off muttering to self and looking anxiously into a hand mirror*

Disclaimer: There are references in here to the movie Evolution, the Very Secret Diaries of Cassandra Claire, Emerald Fiona Flourish's own story, and, possibly, although not very likely, the HARRY POTTER NOVELS BY J.K. ROWLING. Well, duh, what did you think?

CHAPTER ONE

Hogwarts mourned. After the death of yet another radiant, promising, chestnut-haired being, the Wizarding World felt that it simply could not take any more. While wallowing in misery and self-pity, nobody noticed a girl named Emerald Fiona Flourish slip into their routine quietly and calmly. There was no big announcement from Dumbledore, no massive pining from the male population or insane jealousy from the female. No, the school felt it best to keep things quiet that Emerald Fiona Flourish went to Hogwarts, so that no crazed fanfiction writers or freak meteoroids would seek her out.

Then again, they might not have noticed that she was a Mary Sue. For instance, her hair was ***gasp*** rich, silky BROWN. And her eyes were ***get ready for this*** HAZEL, not sapphire or emerald or topaz. Just hazel. But then, a thousand other signs should have told them. Her pure clean outline, her soulful violin music, her compatability with animals, her honors in writing...and mathematics...and just about every other subject, her sparkling wit and dripping charisma and—

Yeah, she was definitely a Mary Sue.

So what do we care?

(A/N: BECAUSE **AMARA'S** WRITING ABOUT IT, THAT'S WHY. *GLARES AT ALL WHO DISAGREE, I.E. EVERYBODY*)

BECAUSE AMARA'S WRITING ABOUT IT, THAT'S WHY. Honestly. Didn't you know that?

(A/N: THANK YOU.)

Anytime. I—I mean.....

(A/N: YES, WE KNOW. SO LET'S FAST-FORWARD TO THE MIDDLE OF THE YEAR AND SHOW THE READERS HOW HUMAN OUR MARY SUE IS WITH AN EXAMPLE OF HER HEARTRENDING EMOTIONAL TRAUMA)

*quails under author's stares* Y-yes, master. If you wish.

CHAPTER TWO.

Emerald crept into the room, overcome with trauma, and slid a razor blade out of her sleeve. She crouched in the center of the room, the blade hovering over her wrist, thinking anguished thoughts.

"Oh, nobody likes me," she said aloud. "All the girls hate me because they think I am more beautiful and intelligent and intuitive and polite then they are, and all the boys are reduced to soppy mush at the very sight of my slim-ness and leggy-ness and thick poofy hair-ness. They're all right, of course, but DON'T I DESERVE TO BE TREATED LIKE A HUMAN BEING, TOO?" 

With a light, feminine sob she brought the blade against her milky white wrist.

Harry, overcome with emotion, rushed out from under the table. "Don't, Emerald!"

The razor fell with a hollow sound. "You—you actually care about me?" Emerald faltered.

"Of course I do, Emerald, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever met," Harry answered sensitively.

"But you also think that I have a deep and thoughtful and intelligent mind and positive ideas to enrich my environment, right?"

"S-Sure I do, Emerald," Harry replied uncertainly.

"Oh, Harry!" Emerald flew into his arms and gave him a big wet one.

CHAPTER THREE

"Oh, but Draco," Emerald breathed, something inside her stirred by the plea that her fellow student was so obviously crying, "there's so much more to life than wearing black robes and torturing mudbloods. Scrubbing toilets, breathing in flower pollen, staring at the sun until you go blind—there's a whole world out there to explore, and it's only through love and caring that you can explore it! Draco, don't you feel inspired NOW?"

"Yeah, Emerald, inspired, yeah," said Draco distractedly. Emerald gave a sigh.

"Draco, if you're going to stare at my chest all day, then what's the point of trying to convert you to the Light Side?"

"What?" Draco blinked. "Um, no, no! Really! Look! It's okay! I'm not—I mean—look! I've been listening! See!" Draco magically produced a garish yellow flower and inhaled deeply, stared fiercely at a lightbulb, sprayed cleansing mist into a toilet bowl, and tied a velvet ribbon around a rabbit's neck for extra measure. Emerald grinned knowingly, convinced now that Draco had finally given up the Dark Arts and dedicated his life to doing good deeds.

"Oh, Draco, I'm so happy for you!" She threw her arms around him and kissed him deeply.

"Fanks, Efrald, I'b habby too," Draco yelled joyously, running off to frolic in a flowery meadow but wandering out of the Hogwarts boundaries and stumbling onto a major highway because of his temporary blindness. Emerald waved gaily as a Budweiser truck drove over him, feeling that life really was worth living when you changed somebody's life.

CHAPTER FOUR

"Harry," said Emerald, troubled. "Harry, I'm an Augur. I see the future—not as it is, but what it will be if something drastic isn't done."

"Oh!" said Harry, surprised. "Gee, that's great, Emerald!"

Emerald sighed. "It's nothing to be excited about, Harry. It's a burden. A curse. I've been haunted all my life by mocking visions, crooning to me with horrible voices. _"Stop us, Emerald. Don't let us come true. Only you can stop us, Emerald. Why aren't you doing anything about us?_ Not even my ephemeral beauty can console me, because Augurs are never cured of their dreadful visions. Except—" her voice trembled.

"What, Emerald?" Hermione urged.

"Well—"

"If we can cure you, then you'll be...cured," Harry added intelligently.

With a tiny sigh, Emerald crumpled into a lovely heap of long pale limbs and violet dressrobes (unlike Elrond, purple was definitely her color).

"Oh!" cried Hermione.

"Oh!" cried Harry.

"Oh!" cried Ron.

"Oh!" cried Draco from St. Mungo's, although they couldn't really tell through the plaster body cast.

CHAPTER FIVE

"A kiss from her One True Love?" Hermione suggested. "It's in all the Muggle fairy stories."

"Maybe a complicated potion made with the efforts of her dearest friends, given to her at midnight on Midsummer's Day when all the heavenly bodies in the solar system are lined up in a rare phenomena that occurs every 1,001 years and happens to be coming up in twelve days, at the exact moment that a bolt of lightning strikes the tallest tower of Hogwarts," Harry tried. Met with stares, he shrugged. "Or we could just kick her and see what happens."

"Harry!," Hermione admonished, "how could you kick such an angelic creature?" They all looked fondly upon Emerald's peaceful face, resting on a grey satin cushion in a case of adamantine, then resumed pacing back and forth trying to figure out the cure.

CHAPTER SIX

Hermione groaned, her head in her hands. Emerald would lie in her enchanted sleep forever and she, Hermione Granger, would be responsible.

It wasn't true, of course, but Hermione had blamed herself ever since a freak meteoroid had pounded Mary Ellen Sue into the dust. _That_ had been her fault, although she didn't need to be reminded for she felt the pain of it every waking moment. 

If her fantastic researching skills didn't come through this time, the cosmic balance would be upset from the loss of THREE WHOLE MARY SUES and they would all die. Or so she figured. Hey, it sounded dramatic enough for this story to *me*, so the characters are sticking to it.

Weeping from frustration, Hermione suddenly lifted her bushy head and screwed up her eyes, a keen light shining from them. Miraculously, a thought had just blinked into her mind, a thought that was sent, she was sure, to keep her going.__

"Hermione," Emerald spoke firmly, "everybody has a destiny in life, and you have yours too. Whether you go out and write a book or win a Congressional Medal of Honor or hold a kid upside down for his pocket money, you're making a difference in life. You've already earned the highest O.W.L.S. score in history—well, you would have if I hadn't come here, but that's beside the point—you have a meaning in life! Aren't my words giving you spiritual comfort? Don't you want to go out and do something energetically and on the spur of the moment, like hot-wire a car?"

"Thank you, Emerald!" Hermione beamed. "I can't explain it, but I feel so much confidence and self-esteem oozing out of my pores that I need a good shower! You're some role model, Emerald. I could look at you and be insanely jealous, I should look at you and be insanely jealous, and I probably would look at you and be insanely jealous, but I feel only gratitude and thanks! You've turned my life around, Emerald! I have absolutely no recollection of whatever the hell you just said, but just standing next to you makes me want to donate my life's savings to some stupid charity foundation! Thank you, Emerald!"

Hermione closed her eyes and smiled to herself, jumping up (after she'd opened her eyes of course, but that's beside the point, I just wanted to make it clear that she didn't end up in St. Mungo's next to Draco, because not everybody injures themselves after Emerald's breathtaking advice, and anyway how could Hermione be given the opportunity to fall in love with Draco when the loss of even ONE boy's infatuation out of millions will crush Emerald's self-confidence for life, even though her dripping charisma has completely defaced Hogwart's grounds in the short time that she has been there?)

It was time to put her researching skills to the test. The ultimate test. Their lives were in her writer's-cramped hands. 

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Were-People, Seers, Soothsayers, Mary Sues, (she rushed over this part without even blinking because of her great distress, otherwise she'd have stopped and read some very interesting material) Merfolk, Trollish, Poltergeists, Haunts, Orcs, Uruk-Hai, GOD, was Dumbledore LYING when he told us Emerald was an Augur? I've never heard of them before and they aren't even in this book...." Hermione was lolling her head and drooling over a huge stack of books. She slammed the one she was reading (_Freaks of Nature and Their Burdensome Afflictions)_ shut. 

"Dammit, where are you, miraculous inspiration?"

"OH, SHUT UP AND GO TO SYBIL TRELAWNEY'S ROOM, YOU UNGRATEFUL WENCH," the summoned Heavenly voice boomed. Rubbing her ears and wincing, Hermione exclaiemd, "Of course!" and scampered up to the North Tower. I hate Trelawney, she thought bravely, but it's for my dear friend and romantic rival, Emerald.

Without waiting for the trapdoor to descend, Hermione tugged sharply on the silk rope hanging down from it and raced up the stairs into the misty gloom within. Ignoring Professor Trelawney, she raced to the shelf wrapping around the room and pawed through the teacups and grizzled talons for old divination tomes.

"My dear, you are troubled!" exclaimed Professor Trelawney, rising from her desk and rushing across the room. "Tell me—is your friend the Potter boy finally dying at the hands of Lord Voldemort? Has his brave and tragic life finally come to an end? Are your dreams troubled by warnings? Perhaps you had very little aura, but when the fates demand a life they are very strong indeed. Tell me, dear! Tell me!"

Hermione ignored her and threw a handful of teacups on the floor to reach a huge leather-covered book in the back. Trelawney winced and jump back. "Do be careful, dear—the pink ones—I've always—" With great care Hermione lifted the book off the shelf and dropped like a stone to the floor, leafing through it. "Now what is the matter, you must tell me, I may be able to—"

"AN AUGUR! IT'S AN AUGUR! SHE'S AN AUGUR! DUMBLEDORE WASN'T LYING!" Hermione was bouncing off the walls. "Look! Look! _At the quacking of the first vernal mallard, 'Twixt perilous deep and stouthearted soldiers, Diana will set and pale dawn will spread, The Call will annul with Head & Shoulders._ Head & Shoulders! Head & Shoulders! That's the answer! Head & Shoulders! THANK YOU, PROFESSOR TRELAWNEY!" And she skipped down the stairs.

"Ahh, well, whenever my perceptiveness can help others less endowed..." breathed Professor Trelawney at her mistiest, delicately rearranging her shawl.

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Head & Shoulders! Head & Shoulders!" Hermione screamed wildly in the corridors. "It's Head & Shoulders, Harry! Head & Shoulders is the answer!" She ran into the Gryffindor common room. "Head & Shoulders, everybody!"

The room froze. A mansion of Exploding Snap cards exploded and some minor character's head erupted into flames, but they all stared at Hermione.

"Hermione," Ron began uncertainly. "What're you talking about?"

"Head & Shoulders, Head & Shoulders! That's how we save Emerald!" Hermione shouted madly.

"Er—what's Head & Shoulders?" Harry asked.

Hermione's shoulders slumped.

"I....I don't know," she admitted. Then: "Oh, yeah! It's a Muggle shampoo! It's in the prophecy! See, here..." and she recited it for them.

"You mean we have to..do something with Muggle hair potion..when the sun rises..at the quack of the first spring duck?" Ron clarified bewilderdly.

"Who's Diana?" Harry asked.

CHAPTER NINE

"Hurry up! I feel weird here!" Ron hissed, looking around nervously at the very frightening-looking Muggles with their pastel jogging suits and shopping carts. Hermione shook her head exasperatedly and strided down the aisle to the toiletries, clutching a shopping basket. "Aha!" She reached for a bottle of Head & Shoulders shampoo at the same time as someone else. "Oof, sorry, go ahead," she mumbled. The man in the firefighter suit frowned and looked at the company behind him.

"Hey, she's not in the movie, is she?" Several freakish lizards scampered out of his pockets and a weird, colorful fly buzzed around him. Hermione watched impatiently as they grabbed at least twenty economy boxes of Head & Shoulders. Finally she took two bottles, rang them up, and left happily.

"Funny," Hermione said to herself, "that man looked a lot like—but no, it couldn't have been—not David Duchovny..."

"I still don't get how this is going to work," Ron muttered.

CHAPTER TEN

Shivering, they looked at the slowly sinking moon behind them and rubbed their hands in the frigid air. Emerald lay before them on the soft dewy grass, her shimmering hair splayed out next to her and her face ghostly white in the near-dark. The whole school stood solemnly behind them, praying for the sake of their beautiful, angelic, kind, clever, and all-around perfect friend Emerald. She had changed all of their lives somehow. 

"All right..." Ron muttered. "Here goes..." The first tentative rays of sunlight creeped over the horizon, casting a heavenly glow on Emerald's flawless face. The world paused as thousands of eyes roved the streaky sky. "Pale dawn spread" over the treetops, and still, nothing.

Then...

"QUACK QUACK!" screamed some duck. Cheers broke out on the school grounds, wild frenzied shouts and cries of happiness that rang through the morning sky.

Then...

"What are we supposed to do with the shampoo??" somebody asked loudly. Dumbfounded, Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked at each other.

"You've killed her!" somebody else screamed. "It's over! She's gone! You can't save her now!"

Desperately, Harry poured globs of shampoo over Emerald's prone body. Hermione sobbed and smeared more shampoo onto Emerald. At St. Mungo's, Draco pined.

Then...

"Hey, guys!" cried Emerald, sitting up. "What's this all about?" And the world rejoiced, for Emerald was still her perky and self-assured yet soothing self.

"Oh, Emerald, we thought you would be in an enchanted sleep forEVER!" Hermione choked out.

"Emerald!" Harry cried, looking to her hopefully for a kiss.

"Emwldd!!!" Draco cried back at St. Mungo's, until the nurses came and quieted him with a cattleprod.

"Darling!" cried Dumbledore.

"D—Darling?" Emerald stuttered.

"Yes, Emerald!" Dumbledore beamed. "Didn't you know that you were my extraordinarily powerful daughter? Why, you're Gryffindor's Heir!"

"Does that mean that the Potters aren't descended from Godric Gryffindor, then?" said Harry, disappointed. 

"Daddy!" cried Emerald joyfully, embracing her one true father.

"EMERALD FIONA FLOURISH, by your leave, you shall be inducted into the Mary Sue Hall of Fame for your profound counselling and earthly wisdom and for bravely wrestling with disturbing visions for sixteen years! You have changed everybody's life, and now you shall be given the highest honor!" yelled Cornelius Fudge above the rejoicing, although we're not exactly sure how he got there in the first place.

"Yay!" cried Emerald.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"That's my girlfriend," Harry said proudly.

"That's my daughter," Dumbledore whispered to Madam Pomfrey, who looked disappointed.

"TODAY," Fudge boomed, "IT IS MY HIGHEST PLEASURE—"

Suddenly Hermione came flying down the aisle. "Wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"BLAH BLAH BLAH I HEREBY INDUCT—"

"FINITE INCANTATEM!" Hermione cried.

Fudge paused, and a look of wonder and confusion crossed his face as Emerald's sleek dark coils went slack against Emerald's shoulders and shortened to mid-neck and a pimple sprouted on her forehead.

Then...

"It's not Mary Sue!" screamed an onlooker. "It's just a fanfiction writer!"

"Burn her!" shouted another.

"Burn her!"

"Burn her!"

"Burn her!"

"Burn her!"

"No—um—I mean—hey, it's a witch!" Emerald shouted suddenly, pointing to Hermione.

Dead silence.

"Burn the witch!"

Dead silence.

"Go and burn the witch! It's a witch! Look!" Emerald cried again.

Dead silence.

"We're all witches, you hideous freak of nature!"

Dead silence. Then the crowd caught on.

"Burn her!"

"Burn the fanfiction writer!"

"A fanfiction writer! It's a fanfiction writer, not Mary Sue!"

"Burn her!"

"Burn her!"

"Damn you, Monty Python," Emerald swore, gathering up her skirts to jump off the back of the stage. But before she could—

**loud Tarzan roar**

**girl swings in on thick braided robe, grabs Emerald by sash of dressrobe, and swings her to safety in, dunno, some big tree nearby**

"Wh—who are you?" Emerald said weakly.

"Don't you recognize me, Rachael?" spoke the exquisite girl in front of her, thick black hair flowing down her back and topaz eyes sparkling at her under an alabaster brow.

"No," Emerald said bluntly.

"It's Amara—and I just saved your sorry little ass."

Emerald blinked, then yelled "Finite Incantatem!"

"Hey!" she cried. "Rachel, it's you!"

The pimply girl swung her thick brown braids nonchalantly. "Well, if you get to play with Cosmeticus Charms there's no reason that I shouldn't."

"Look, can we just shut up and write the Fourth Part together? I'm sorry, you're sorry, let's WRITE!"

Rachel/Amara blinked, then shrugged. "Fine by me."

"Hey!" Harry begged. "I still need a boyfriend!"

"Who's going to assure me that I have a purpose in life?" Hermione whined.

"I'f still nod vreally on da lawt sthide," Draco mumbled from St. Mungo's (he's been doing great lately, they took off the body cast)

Emerald shook her head sadly at them. "Sorry, guys, fun as it's been, I'm not perfect, and I've got to go write the next Attack of the Mary Sues with Rachel."

And Hogwarts mourned once more.

"You know," Rachel said as they walked away, finally free from the burdens of righteousness and unworldliness, "there's got to be some way to bring those Cosmeticus Charms back to the Real World."

And Emerald nodded.

THE END.

A/N: THAT WAS THE STUPIDEST, LONGEST, BORINGEST, MOST UN-FUNNY STORY EVER WRITTEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

       I hope you liked it.

A/N: DIDN'T THE ENDING SUCK COMPLETELY AND 100%-LY???????

        I hope you liked it, too.

     -Amara


	2. My God, there's more!!!!!!!

YAY!!!!!!!!! THE NEXT CHAPTER, FROM ME!!!!!!!!! I'VE DECIDED THAT WORDINESS DOES NOT MAKE HUMOR, SO I JUST STARTED TYPING AND THREW UP ALL OVER MY SHOES AT WHAT CAME OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Attack of the Mary Sues IV.

AS ALL MARY SUE STORIES BY EMERALD FIONA FLOURISH OR I MUST START, Dumbledore stood up (Hogwarts shuddered at the sight of his pointy hat) and made a loud announcement, his eyes twinkling like...er...twinkly things.

"After the tragic demises of the past...um...." (here he paused to count on his fingers, then brightened) "...FOUR Mary Sues, we've pretty much lost all hope for the American exchange program. Er....that's it, I guess."

But...

Without warning...

In a divine act of Heaven...

A huge, pearly-colored sea snail rolled into the room and coughed up Mary Gretchen Sue, who outshone everybody in the hall even when covered with snail mucus.

"Hello, all!" she yelled. "Sorry I'm late! I was just donating my vital organs to a little legless armless headless parentless goatless goatboy from Baklaliviatalaglooshen, but I brought some cheesy lasagna for everybody!"

"Ahh, Mary Gretchen Sue!" Dumbledore cried joyfully. "The rare Greenlandish Mary Sue!!!"

"Greenland?" Hermione said blankly, but nobody listened to here. "Didn't I live there once?"

"What, with three children named Mike, Rachael and Teresa and Voldemort?" Harry suggested, and they all cracked up BECAUSE WHY IN HER RIGHT MIND WOULD HERMIONE WANT TO LIVE IN GREENLAND-NOT-SEALAND WITH THREE CHILDREN NAMED MIKE, RACHAEL AND TERESA AND REDECORATE AND BAKE COOKIES AND KNIT VOLDEMORT'S SOCKS ALL DAY???????????????? _I_ DON'T KNOW, ASK EMERALD FIONA _FLOURISH_, _SHE_ THINKS IT'S QUITE POSSIBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Meanwhile the entire Wizarding World was sampling Mary Gretchen Sue's cheesy lasagna and dedicating the rest of their lives to forming religious sects cult-worshipping it because it was just SO DARNED GOOD.

In Baklaliviatalaglooshen one little boy was leaking tears of joy as he looked at his armful of vital organs—then he realized he had no idea what to do with them and gave it up and had some of Mary Gretchen's cheesy lasagna.

YAY!!

THAT'S THE END!!!

THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO GALADRIEL GAMGEE BAGGINS!!!!!!

CHEESY LASAGNA IS BETTER THAN PEAS!!!!

TAKE THAT, EMERALD!!!!!

IS IT SOME SORT OF CONSPIRACY THAT WE BOTH MENTIONED DUCKS IN OUR THREQUELS????????

THE SEA SNAILS ARE WATCHING US!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Boom.


End file.
